


I Run The Risk Of Losing You (And That's Worse)

by uppityroman



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Character Study, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Headcanon, M/M, POV Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Being Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29701023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uppityroman/pseuds/uppityroman
Summary: Sherlock Holmes can't understand why John Watson is so important, right up until he can. (This is basically an excuse for me to do a character study of John through Sherlock's eyes. This is sickeningly sweet, so sorry about that.)
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 75





	I Run The Risk Of Losing You (And That's Worse)

**Author's Note:**

> John is so brilliant. I love him endlessly. (Title from the song "Ever Fallen In Love (With Someone You Shouldn't Have)" by the Buzzcocks.

Sherlock knows more about John Watson than he ever thought he would care to know about anyone at all. 

And it is endlessly frustrating. 

The delicate system he'd so intricately set up in his mind palace is destroyed. Where he once had cupboards and rooms organised in order of importance and frequency to which he needed them, there is now John. John in his head twenty-four hours a day. John is there, now, always, when he needs to think, standing beside him with his arms behind his back. There are times that his presence there is helpful. And there are times that it is not. 

He knows too much about John Watson. More than he strictly needs to know, more than he knows about other people. More than he wants to know about other people, about anyone. He doesn't do this, he doesn't know this kind of thing about people. Things that don't matter, things with no weight, no bearing. 

But obviously, he does know those things about people. Namely, one person. 

He knows, for example, that John's favourite colour is yellow, but if anyone asks, he always says blue. He knows that John likes two sugars in his tea, uses much too much milk in his coffee, and prefers bottled beer over cans of lager. He knows that John showers in the mornings, reads in the evenings, and goes for long walks during his lunch breaks at the clinic. That he has an unexplainable (at least to Sherlock) love of James Bond, Alan Partridge, and old reruns of The Good Life. He knows that John tends to avoid watching the news, preferring to read the papers, but that he despises Piers Morgan all the same. He knows about John's childhood crush on Anneka Rice that never quite went away. 

Sherlock fumes at the fact that he knows John's listening habits, that he listens to podcasts on the bus to work and to fall asleep. That he can tell what kind of mood John is in by what music he plays in the shower. (His love of 'classic Britpop', as he puts it, is mildly irritating at best and unbearably annoying at worst.) Sherlock hates that he knows what shampoo he uses (eucalyptus and something vaguely minty), the kind of aftershave he uses based on what he's going to do that day (he has different ones for date nights, something Sherlock thinks is both insanely out of character for him and very annoying - why John feels he needs to advertise the fact that he's going to have intercourse, Sherlock will never know). He knows what brand of biscuits John prefers, (bourbon) what type of tea (Earl Grey, of course), what crisps are his favourite (salt and vinegar). That he’s starting to need glasses but ignoring it (more in the left eye than the right, based on the way he squints and tilts his head to the side when he’s reading anything in dim light), and that he always sleeps on the side of the bed closest to the door, even (and especially) when he’s sleeping with someone else, although Sherlock can't help but notice that that has been happening more and more infrequently as of late.

Sherlock will open a door in his mind palace, hoping to find something helpful to a case, only to find more John. John Waston is an enigma. He is unknowable and knowable at the same time. Soldier, doctor, healer. He’s a caretaker, a fighter. 

With anyone else, it’s a virtue. He can unravel people, see them, learn what he needs to learn and nothing more. The parts that matter are glaring and obvious, so much so that it’s a wonder no one else was able to see them. With John, it’s all highlighted. Everything about him is shiny and bright and colourful. Sherlock’s mind has (most irritatingly) seemed to have decided that John’s numerous skills as a doctor are as important as his favourite type of cheese.

(Stilton.) 

The longer Sherlock knows him, John Watson makes the world around him shine brighter. John Watson is the sun and the moon and the brightest of conductors all at once and nothing irritates Sherlock more than not understanding _what_ any of it means. 

He spends hours in his mind palace organising and reorganising John’s section in it. What had started out as something of a filing cabinet has now become the largest room Sherlock has, laced with every detail he’s observed. 

_Loyal, passionate, yet quietly angry, more than John would admit. Tendency to repress emotions until they burst out of him, excessive apologies, all seem to signify a history of child neglect. An absent parent, maybe two, although only emotionally. Living with someone emotionally distant, then. Sister with a drinking habit, and an ex-soldier erring on the edge of developing one too, with heteronormative family values drilled into them from birth. Possibly emotionally distant mother, alcoholic father who is the opposite of distant. Loud and needing to be heard at all times._

_White picket fence fantasy, but with a taste for danger, trouble connecting to his emotions reinforce the weak motherly influence theory, in a family that upholds rigid gender roles. Sherlock suspects sexual experimentation too, in his teens and university days, most likely. Men are interesting, new, thrilling. But women, women are safe._

Sherlock often rouses himself when he gets to this train of thought. He finds he doesn’t want to think about it. 

John’s favourite book is _Gulliver’s Travels._

Bollocks, he’s doing it again. 

Sherlock’s mind palace is getting messy. Important, relevant things are being replaced with John Watson’s _damned_ smile. 

_Why_ is John so important? Why does Sherlock feel the need to document every new gesture, every fleeting touch and grin and sentence? Bloody fucking hell, it’s infuriating. 

* * *

Sherlock can tell that John struggles with opening up. The way he talks about his therapist makes that very clear. He can tell that John doesn’t like Irene Adler from the moment that he meets her, but Sherlock can’t figure out why.

What he can figure out is that John has stopped dating. That’s the most confusing part of it all. He never thinks to ask why, just files it away somewhere for later perusal and moves on. 

* * *

John likes pea soup. Disgusting.

* * *

Sherlock doesn’t like knowing things about John. Not the way he likes knowing things about anything else. With John, it always feels like there’s more, like there’s something just out of reach, and that’s the worst part of all. He wants to know John completely, he can see that now. He wants to know every part of him. 

He wants to be able to look at John Watson and know not just what he wants or how he’s feeling, but how to help him, how to give him what he needs, whatever he needs. It’s a foreign feeling, something he can’t possibly understand.

* * *

 _Ah. It’s love,_ he realises, staring at John hunched over a body at a crime scene. It's so obvious, it's almost stupid. It hits him all at once, like a wave, and once it's festered in his mind, he can't get rid of it. It's the truth, he knows, but he hates it, he hates knowing it.

That's why. That's why he can't shake it, the _knowing_ of John Watson. Sherlock is struck with dual understandings. He is in love with John Watson. And there’s nothing he can do about it.

* * *

Before John stopped dating, he preferred light-haired women, usually shorter than him. Usually doctors, sometimes friends of friends. 

Sherlock drums his fingers on the table and files it away.

* * *

John is getting odder about touching, Sherlock notices. 

His hands brush Sherlock’s fingers when he hands him something, linger on his shoulder while they talk. He starts putting his feet in Sherlock’s lap when they sit together on the couch. He grabs Sherlock by the hand when they run after criminals, making Sherlock’s spine light up with electricity. 

He drinks tea out of Sherlock’s mug.

* * *

John has started fussing with Sherlock’s hair when they’re out together. Sherlock learns that John’s favourite chippy is different from his. He knows what drink to order Sherlock at a cafe, and how he likes his tea.

Sherlock knows that all of Scotland Yard made their assumptions long ago, and he finds that he doesn't care very much. 

* * *

Over time, he learns more about John. He learns that John likes complimenting him, likes the way it makes him flustered and confused, and that he likes Thai takeout the most out of any kind they get. He learns that John (for one reason or the other) loves grocery shopping, likes taking cabs with him, and that he’s gotten a new therapist. 

There’s more he knows, now, too. 

He knows that John’s hands are really rather nice to hold, that when they’re lying together on the couch, John likes to run fingers through Sherlock’s hair. He knows that John likes to kiss him with his whole being, holding Sherlock’s head in both of his hands and snogging him so hard that Sherlock almost passes out. He knows that kissing John under his ear is the fastest way to make him melt into Sherlock’s arms, that after a long day all he wants to do is curl up with Sherlock and watch a comedy, some of which, Sherlock realises, aren’t actually _that_ bad. 

He knows that sex with John is something he never could have thought would be this amazing, and that there is very little in the world as beautiful and John lying in bed, waiting for him to come back from the bathroom and go to sleep. 

John’s feet are cold, but he doesn’t mind.

He knows that John has started drawing him when they sit together, thinking he hasn’t noticed. John’s not half-bad when it comes to that kind of thing, and when he finally shows Sherlock them, in bed one morning, post-sex, Sherlock presses a kiss to his temple and John wraps an arm around his shoulder and pulls him closer. 

Sherlock knows that John isn’t one for public displays of affection, but that he’ll slip his hand into Sherlock’s pocket and hold his hand if there’s no one in their direct vicinity. He knows that John knows when he skips meals, and will make him eat if he has any say in the matter. He knows that John would beat up a murderer for Sherlock, and has done, on many an occasion. He knows that John likes pet names, calls Sherlock 'love', and 'darling', and goes bright red when Sherlock refers to him as 'my dear'. It's worth it just to see his face.

He knows that it makes John happy when he agrees to go out with him and his friends, whether it be dinner with Harry or the pub with Lestrade and the Yard lot. He knows that wearing what John has dubbed 'the Purple Shirt of Sex' makes John give him the _look,_ and that it's not likely to stay on long after that.

He knows that the little sticky notes with sweet messages that John leaves around the flat for him are John's way of saying, _"I'm here. I'm here for you and I'm never letting go."_

He knows that John has things he needs to unlearn, as does he. He sees John start to flinch whenever someone makes an allusion to them being together, before relaxing and taking Sherlock's hand. He sees John unravel in his hands when they have their long talks, all the more frequent these days. John tells him about his parents, about the army, about going to medical school and military training while being in the closet, even to himself. 

Sherlock knows that it's hard for John, but he also knows for certain for the first time in a long, long time, that John isn't going to leave him.

Most terrifyingly, he knows that he loves John Watson with every essence of his being. And he knows that John Watson loves him right back.

* * *

And best of all, he knows John’s ring size. 

fin.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, and good day. I do in fact have other fics, check them out if you are so inclined. xx


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